


When an End is Really a Beginning

by White Queen Writes (fhartz91)



Series: Prince of Omens [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Alternate Universe, Don't copy to another site, Established Relationship, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Inspired by Fanart, Inspired by Fanfiction, M/M, Post-Canon, Romance, contains no spoilers, prince of omens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-01
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:26:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22516966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhartz91/pseuds/White%20Queen%20Writes
Summary: Months after the Armageddon-that-wasn't, centuries after their adventures in Egypt, Crowley and Aziraphale have finally gotten to a place where they can be together in relative peace. And where the status quo seems nice and all, Crowley is ready to move forward.He hopes Aziraphale is willing to move forward with him.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Prince of Omens [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1630693
Comments: 23
Kudos: 200





	When an End is Really a Beginning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Prince of Omens](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21848095) by [WhiteleyFoster](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteleyFoster/pseuds/WhiteleyFoster). 



> As a patron of Whiteley Foster, I had the honor of reading the ending to their amazing Prince of Omens comic. So, I wrote this as a thank you present (one of two). It contains no spoilers to the story that hasn't been made public yet. It's just a little epilogue that takes place after the events of the Good Omens mini-series, but includes the Prince of Omens version of the characters and references to their time in Egypt.

“Do you remember Egypt, angel?” Crowley asks, closing the book he’d been flipping through - one of about a hundred Aziraphale brought with him when he moved into Crowley’s flat. It’s a thick, rather _daunting_ book titled _Holy Treasures of Egypt._ Crowley had sneered at it like a rival serpent when he saw it, but Aziraphale assured him that, like Crowley’s long lost _Big Book of Astronomy,_ it was filled with more beautiful photographs than annoying words.

So Crowley gave it a go.

He ended up fixated on it all afternoon, reading it from the beginning - even the annoying words. He’d bring it closer when he thought he recognized a piece of art or jewelry, or to mock a particularly botched translation. Crowley had been so taken by the book, he even brought it to bed with him, focusing anxious energy on it instead of on his angel stripping off layers to join him.

“Egypt when?” Aziraphale chuckles, slipping his robe onto a nearby chair and climbing under the covers. “We’ve been there so many times! You have to be specific.”

“You know when,” Crowley answers softly - so softly, Aziraphale doesn’t hear it so much as it tugs at his heart.

“ _Remember_?” Aziraphale says with a nostalgic smile. “Do you honestly think I could _forget_?”

“I don’t know,” Crowley mumbles self-consciously, worrying the edge of the blanket, rolling the fabric between his fingertips. “We’ve had quite the run. 6000 plus years crossing each others’ paths. The details could have gotten muddy on some of them.”

“My dear boy …” Aziraphale inches within a foot of Crowley and opens his own book “… I think our time in Egypt is the time you spent with me the longest. That was a first. Of course I’m going to remember it! And fondly so.”

“Was that … the only first you remember from that time?”

“No, and you know it, you old serpent!” Aziraphale teases. “That time was full of firsts. First kiss, first _I love you …_ first time making love.” Aziraphale stops reading and sighs. He glances from his book to the demon beside him staring at the blanket in his hands hard enough to set it ablaze and wonders what’s going through Crowley’s mind.

It’s been months since the Armageddon-that-wasn’t, months since the non-executions that cemented their new freedom on Earth.

Months since they decided to go native and move in with one another.

They’ve made plenty of decisions in that time. Plenty of changes.

Crowley grew his hair out again. It’s pulled back now using the white ribbon Aziraphale gave him. _The poor thing!_ Aziraphale thinks. _If Crowley didn’t have his magic to keep it together, it would have disintegrated a long time ago._ The great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandsaplings of the plant that came with it survived much the same way, and are happily potted in Crowley’s collection. As for the ribbon, Aziraphale knows Crowley keeps it on him at all times.

He discovered it in Crowley’s coat pocket when they switched bodies.

But it’s rare that he wears it, too afraid of losing it after all this time.

His wearing it now should be a sign, Aziraphale knows. He just needs to figure out a sign of _what._

“Is there some reason you’re bringing it up, my dear?”

“No.” Crowley looks up to meet Aziraphale’s concerned eyes - eyes that know when he’s lying. “Yes. I guess, I just … I did a little math and today … well, I don’t know if you know this, but today’s kind of an anniversary … for us.”

“Is it?” Aziraphale asks, curious smile twitching his lips.

“Yes.”

“Which one?”

“The … uh …” Crowley’s cheeks pink as he remembers all three - one especially, even if it isn’t the point of the conversation. It amazes him that with the amount of times they’ve made love over the years - and the few times they’ve _fucked_ \- that that first time could make him blush like a teenager “… one that mattered most. The _I love you_.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale’s smile grows wider, making Crowley suspect he _did_ know, even if he didn’t mention it. _Why wouldn’t he mention it?_ “How do you suppose we should celebrate it then? We’ve already eaten dinner. We could go out dancing? To the cinema?”

“I got you a present,” Crowley admits. “I just … I might be a little nervous about giving it to you. Though, to be honest, I shouldn’t. I’ve done it once before.”

Aziraphale’s brow furrows. _That_ he didn’t expect. “Oh?”

“Yes.”

“Consider me curious.” He sets his book aside and inches closer. “Please … may I have it?”

“Give me your hand.”

Aziraphale’s heart stops before he can move. He means to say _sure._ He means to say _yes!_ But neither word comes out of his mouth. He lifts the hand closest off his lap - his _right_ hand. Crowley shyly shakes his head.

“The … the other one, angel.”

Aziraphale swallows hard. He raises his left hand and gives it to Crowley. “This one?”

“Yes.” Crowley takes Aziraphale’s hand in his and starts sliding something down his ring finger. Aziraphale doesn’t see where it comes from. It could be that Crowley was holding it this whole time. When it reaches Aziraphale’s last knuckle, Crowley brings it to his mouth and kisses it. He returns Aziraphale’s hand to his lap and Aziraphale sees it: a shimmering gold band, Egyptian inspired - a serpent with ruby red eyes wrapped around itself.

Same as the circlet Crowley once wore in his hair.

“Oh, Crowley!” Aziraphale gushes, bringing the ring up to his face for a closer look. “This is … it’s _exquisite_!”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes! Yes, I …” Aziraphale peeks up, raises a brow. “Did you …?”

Crowley’s pink cheeks go flame red. He rolls his eyes. “ _No_ , angel! I bought this one. Actually, I had it made special. I thought it only fitting.”

“Fitting?” Aziraphale closes his hand into a fist, holds it against his heart.

“Yes. You and me, we’re one of a kind, I think. An angel and a demon _in love?_ Don’t see that every day, do you? So I thought, you know, a one of a kind relationship requires a one of a kind ring. An …” Crowley clears his throat but his voice dips as if he’s not necessarily trying to be heard … in case he’s wrong “… engagement … ring.”

Aziraphale’s eyes go saucer wide, his entire face glowing with light shimmering from within. Regardless of what’s happened to them, of what Gabriel and the Archangels have said, what Heaven and Hell have done, no one, not even God Herself, could take that glow away from him.

That glow, in all its magnificence, is completely Aziraphale.

“Crowley, this is the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen in my whole existence! Thank you! Thank you so much!” Just when Crowley thinks Aziraphale will lean in for a kiss, he turns his face to the side, bites his lower lip. “But … it’s left me a little embarrassed.”

And while color rises to Aziraphale’s cheeks, it drains from Crowley’s. “Why is that?” he asks, since that wasn’t his intention.

Not by a long shot.

But the color returns with a vengeance when he sees Aziraphale reach into the pocket of his pajama top and pull out a small black box.

A small black box nearly identical to the one Crowley hid underneath his pillow when he came to bed.

“It seems …” Aziraphale opens the box, revealing a silver band molded into the shape of two wings with a blue stone in between and offering it to a starstruck Crowley, “I may have gotten you a similar present.”


End file.
